


World Enough and Time

by gondalsqueen



Category: Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: F/M, PWP, Quickies, sex in unusual places
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-14
Updated: 2016-02-14
Packaged: 2018-05-20 11:11:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6003706
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gondalsqueen/pseuds/gondalsqueen
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written to fulfill this prompt on the <a href="http://swr-kinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/540.html"> Star Wars: Rebels kinkmeme </a>: "Kanan/Hera--Quckies: Like all parents, our space parents most of the time get only the briefest moments together due to kids and responsibilities. So... they've become professionals at brief moments..."</p><p>Spoiler alert: They have sex.</p>
            </blockquote>





	World Enough and Time

The trick to a good quickie is to be ready when you start. To do that, you have to begin long before the actual encounter—a brush across the wrist when handing off a plate at breakfast, a hip “accidentally” nudging the front of someone’s trousers, fingers working the muscles at the small of your back for all of eight seconds. Things that everyone else will brush off as casual touches.

Kissing on top of the laundry unit, sweet but unfulfilling. Twenty seconds. Everyone else is watching the news in the common area, and anything longer can’t be passed off as a question asked and answered.

Hera’s mouth on him and her fingers stroking him into an urgent state, sixty eight seconds including his belt. He locked the supply closet, but voices keep passing by, one way and another down the corridor, and she’s not willing to risk any longer. Kanan’s not that fast, not even when he’s trying, not even walking into the closet on full alert. He would have been willing to get caught.

A good quickie takes all day to set up.

See, they’re busy. The Phantom’s been pulling left, and the Ghost took a hit to one ion thruster yesterday and is guzzling fuel now, and if they get things set up via an encrypted channel TODAY they can make that contact next week. There’s Ezra’s training to work in at some point, and Hera promised Sabine the old parts after she finished the overhaul on the engine. None of these things can really wait. And Hera, particularly, is no fan of playing before the work is done.

That’s why Kanan is pretty sure he’s seeing things when the tips of her lekku meet.

She and Sabine are on the ground in the hold with a piece of the ion drive pulled out in front of them and the panel open. Sabine has crawled underneath the darn thing. Kanan can’t see her, but he can hear her: “I don’t think we’re going to be able to pull these pieces until after it’s cooled. OUCH! Yeah, try the aft first. That shouldn’t be too hot.”

“Put your gloves back on,” Hera tells her. Then she touches the tips of her lekku together.

It’s totally out of context. “I’m definitely interested; tell me more,” that gesture means in Ryl. “You. Me. Someplace close. Now,” it means in Hera and Kanan’s own particular code.

“No, I need to be able to feel these little pieces,” Sabine calls.

Hera screws a bolt back on and dusts her hands. “Just take a break and get a drink, then. There’s no sense in us getting burned. I’ll see if I can find the problem in the aft panel. Hmm…”

“What?” Sabine asks.

“I don’t have a wrench. Kanan, would you be a love and get the 5/8ths from the engineering bay?” She quirks an eyebrow at him in a language that is particularly Hera. Sabine slides out from beneath the engine and stands.

“Hmm? Yeah! Yeah, sure…”

The engineering bay is two steps across. He can’t miss the wrench, hanging right above his head on the left. Sabine and Hera chat in the hold. “Hera?” he calls. “You want the new one that slips or the old one that’s rusted?”

“Just…” a pause. “Just a minute; I’ll come get it.” And then she’s walking in behind him, nonchalant, gloves in hand, palming the door shut. Outside, retreating footsteps—Sabine going for that drink. Three seconds for that conspiratorial grin before Hera pushes him up against the bench and kisses him silly.

Kanan slides down so that she can reach his mouth, but it’s really much more comfortable for her to pull his shirt aside and kiss the joint where shoulder meets neck, which she does after a moment. Then she kisses his ear and murmurs in it, as if letting him in on a secret, “You have freckles here,” and the memory of her mouth on those freckles is too much. He maneuvers her against the work table and she makes no protest. He’s four familiar buttons and a buckle away from at least getting part of her skin bared, and neither one of them cares about the usual niceties. Hera wriggles out of a shoulder strap and he takes one breast into his mouth, the full shape organic and beautiful amidst the sharp lines and dingy gray of their surroundings. Her fingers slide from his hips forward, and she tests his erection (back again). Then one deft hand slides under his buckle and she’s straightening his cock, pulling it up, NOT opening his pants.

Her hand withdraws.

Kanan pulls back and gauges. Her nipple is peaked, not just from the cool air. She’s got her head leaned to the side and is giving him that come-and-get-me smile. He grins at her, accepting. Then he runs his tongue lightly over the peak of her breast again. That breath she blows out in response—that’s satisfying.

Hera leans in and finds the pulse point in his neck, and he hoists her up on his thigh. She braces a foot against the bench to adjust the pressure and controls her own rhythm, a leisurely slide, but a quick build towards satisfaction.

They don’t have long. Kanan steadies her with one hand and a Force assist—show off, her affectionate smile says—and tugs her earphones and cap until he can reach one ear and the base of a lek. Then he proceeds to tease her with lips and the bump of his nose. That pressure and his breath against her neck and lek, as much as her own increasingly urgent slide, undo her. Spine arches, head tilts back, and she comes with a profound sense of relief.

Then she works at his pants—she must be really sure that she locked the door—and shimmies her own coveralls down over her hips. The shirt stays on. Kanan needs no encouragement—those mouth-dampened fingers on his erect cock are as much for her pleasure as his. Hera leans against the workbench on her forearms, her spine perfectly curved, her ass perfectly shaped. The invitation couldn’t be clearer. So he takes her, pushing in slowly to find how deep he can go in this position, hands on her hips to steady himself.

He’s beginning to be sure of depth and pace, she’s letting out the smallest of sounds, when they hear another voice. “Kanan? Sabine?”

Hera glances back, a finger to her lips. Yes, of course he knows to be quiet. Hold still, this also means. Don’t go. Just wait.

Ezra’s feet clang on the ladder. “Kanan? I finished with the holocron. Zeb said you guys were down here, so I thought…” Footsteps, then a pause. “Huh.”

Kanan winces. He really ought to check the kid’s work, save him a few more minutes and another trip down here. Hera shakes her head. Absolutely not. Her body is warm and pliable and full of satisfied after-tremors. He holds perfectly still, some sort of tantric meditation technique.

After a moment, they hear Ezra’s feet on the rungs of the ladder again, and the voice, now farther this time. “Zeb! He’s not down here!”

Great, two more minutes and they’ll be looking.

Hera rises on her tiptoes, sliding him deeper inside her. All right, then—finish first. He can get on board with that. He obliges, first testing, then thrusting in earnest, urgent, deep little movements inside of her. He can see Hera’s face reflected in the dull plating of the wall, lips parted and eyes closed, concentration focused inward to where he’s burying himself in her. That thought’s enough to do the trick, and he spills over with a groan. Sweetly, she tells him “Shh.”

A kiss behind her ear and a sigh. They dress quickly. Nine minutes and twelve seconds.

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Valentine's Day!


End file.
